Blood Red Rose
by ThatLittleBlackBird
Summary: A brief encounter with a mysterious boy sets in motion a series of events that will turn Clary's life upside down. As her feelings for the stranger blaze with each new meeting she begins to fear he is hiding something about his past. And a new attraction forms, one much closer to home, one which she never saw coming.
1. Prologue

**The idea for this story has been bubbling up inside of me for quite some time now. It's a Jace/Clary/Jonathan love triangle fic so of course there will be incestuous innuendos. I've kept the characters basically as they are just with some changes to suit this story as it has veered away from the original TMI storyline. Anyway enough blather - I hope you enjoy! Tess xo**

**PROLOGUE**

The air was cool and crisp. My breath formed frozen clouds in the air with each exhale. The sun had set. And the pale moon was struggling to break free from the clouds. Tall black trees crowded me. As I walked along the dirt lane, I was startled by the sound of birds screeching.

I didn't see the horse – or its rider – until it was too late.

There was a great flurry of hooves and gleaming flanks and he swirl of a long coat. I looked up and froze. Then it reared and whinnied and something struck the side of my head. I remember falling… falling into darkness.

When I opened my eyes again, the rider had dismounted and was hunched over me. He was only a boy, not much older than me, but looked as though he had come from a different world, a storybook land of knights and elves and princes. His dark hair framed a strong face, with broad cheekbones. His eyes met mine. They're deep set. Dark, almost black. Full of shadows. He stared at me so intently that I felt uncomfortable. You don't call boys beautiful, I know that. But at the same time, he was.

_Looking deep inside of me._

_Finding my darkest thoughts, my worst fears._

_I know you, a voice whispers. I know you._

Cold starts to creep through my blood. I shiver. It runs through my whole body, from my toes to my head. He feels it. Sees it. There is a flicker in his eyes.

'I'm…sorry,' I stammered. 'I didn't see you.'

'You weren't supposed to.'

He looked tired and tense, and the shadows under his eyes were like soft bruises on a tender plum.

'I'm sorry,' I repeated stupidly, waiting for him to apologise in return. But the boy simply stared at me.

'Did you stop my horse on purpose?'

'Did you ride into me on purpose?' I fumed back.

'There's no harm done to you,' the boy replied. 'But I cannot say as much for my horse.' The great beast was trembling and sweating, tossing its head and rolling its eyes as though it had seen a ghost.

'Oh, I am sorry,' I snapped. 'Where I come from, humans are actually considered more important than horses.'

'The word is overrun with humans, like rats, but I have rarely found a horse that suits me so well.' His expression was cold as a winter sea. He murmured to the shivering animal, his long fingers searching its sides. Then he looked up at me, a fraction less hostile. 'Fortunately there's no real damage.'

'Oh, great,' I said. 'The horse is fine. Well, that's a relief.'

I scrambled furiously to get to my feet.

'Ouch!'

A piece of sharp rock had sliced into the palm of my hand, blood oozing. I gulped and stood up, sucking my hand where it bled.

'Your cut should be covered.' The boy threw his horse's reins over a low branch in the lane. He quickly twisted a white handkerchief into a bandage and tied it around my hand to stop the bleeding. A weird shiver ran through me as his hand brushed against mine. 'There,' the boy said, looking at me more gently. I have more than made up for any tangle with my horse by saving your life. I just stopped you from bleeding to death.'

A hint of a smile flickered over his face. I noticed the curve of his lips, the arch of his black eyebrows. He was still holding my hand in his, and I felt a tiny knot of attraction tugging under my rib cage.

'Don't be ridiculous!' I answered, dropping my hand with an effort. 'A little cut like that isn't dangerous.'

'Do you really know what dangers might lurk in this lane?' The boy moved closer to me and studied me with his unnaturally dark eyes. I felt his cool breath on my cheek. Then he reached out and touched a strand of my hair.

I trembled under his touch, not knowing what to say. Who was he? And could he – would he – do me any harm out here on this lonely lane? Stepping away from him, I tensed up and started to rack my brains about everything my brother had taught me about self-defence. The boy seemed to read my mind.

'Don't worry; you'll get home safely tonight.' He grinned and mounted his horse. 'But we'll meet again, I promise you.' He galloped away into the night. _We'll meet again_. I pushed that thought away into a secret place, unwilling to admit to myself that I hoped he was right.

**xxx**

**You're thoughts are greatly appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 1

Someone asked Jace a question, but he hadn't been paying any attention. After a while, everyone at a banquet like this began to resemble a swarm of buzzing fruit flies. Annoying, but impossible to squish quickly and easily.

He pasted what he hoped was a pleasant expression on his face and turned to his left to face one of the more vocal of the insects. He took another bite of a sprout and swallowed it without chewing in an attempt to evade the taste. He barely glanced at the salted pork next to it on his silver plate. He was quickly losing his appetite.

'My apologies,' he said. 'I didn't quite hear that.'

'Your sister, Clarissa,' Jane said, dabbing the corner of her mouth with an embroidered napkin. 'She's grown into a lovely young woman, hasn't she?'

Jace blinked. Small talk was so taxing. 'She has indeed.'

'Tell me again, what age has she turned today?'

'Sixteen.'

'Lovely girl. And so polite.'

'She was raised well.'

'Of course. Is she betrothed to anyone yet?'

'Not yet.'

'Mmm. My son, William, is very accomplished, quite handsome, and what he lacks in height he more than makes up for in intelligence. I think they would make a fine match.'

'This, mam, is something I would suggest you talk to my father about.'

Why had he been seated directly next to this woman? She was ancient and smelled of dust and also, for some bizarre reason, seaweed.

Her husband, Richard, leaned forward in his high-backed seat. 'Enough about matchmaking, wife.'

Jace directed his gaze to the right of his father, where his sister sat dutifully, the guest of honour at this banquet.

The dress she wore tonight was a pinkish orange shade that made him think of a sunset. It was a new dress, one he had never seen her in before, and beautifully made, reflecting the image of eternal richness and perfection his father demanded the Morgenstern family show.

Clarissa Morgenstern was the most beautiful girl in all of Idris. Without a single exception.

Suddenly, the glass goblet in Jace's tight grip shattered and cut his hand. He swore, than grabbed for a napkin to bind the wound. Jane and Richard looked at him with alarm, as if disturbed that it might have been their conversation of betrothals that had upset him.

It was not.

Stupid, so stupid.

The thought was reflected in the look of his father's face – he hadn't missed a thing. His mother, seated to his father's left, also took notice. She immediately averted her cool gaze to continue the conversation with the woman next to her.

His father didn't look away. He glared at him as if embarrassed to be in the same room. Jace wondered if there would ever be a day when his father would approve of him. He supposed he should be grateful his father even bothered to invite him to this event. Then again, he wanted to make it seem as if his family was a tight-knit and strong unit – now and always.

What a laugh.

Jace would have already left Idris to explore the world, but there was one thing that kept him right where he was, even now that he was on the cusp of turning eighteen.

'Jace!' Clary had rushed to his side and knelt next to him. Her attention was fully focused on his hand. 'You've hurt yourself.'

'It's nothing.' he said lightly. 'Just a scratch.'

Blood had already soaked through the meagre binding. Her brows drew together with concern. 'Just a scratch? I don't think so. Come with me and I'll help bandage it properly.'

She pulled at his wrist.

The pain wasn't enough to bother him but the embarrassment did sting. 'Fine, my sister, the healer. I'll let you patch me up.'

She gave him a comforting smile that made something inside of him twist. Something very hard to ignore.

Jace didn't cast another glance at his father or his mother as he left the banquet hall. Clary led him into an adjoining room, one that was chillier without the body heat of the banquet guests. Hanging tapestries did little to warm the cold stone walls. She asked a manor maid to fetch a basin of water and bandages, then sat him down on a seat next to her and undid the napkin from his wound.

He let her.

'The glass was too fragile,' he explained.

She raised an eyebrow. 'So it just shattered for no reason at all, did it?'

'Exactly.'

She sighed, then dipped a cloth in water and began to clean the wound. Jace barely noticed the pain anymore. 'I know exactly why this happened.'

He tensed. 'You do?'

'It's father.' Her green eyes flickered up to meet his. 'You're angry with him.'

'And you think I imagined his neck in place of the stem of the glass.'

'Did you?' She pressed firmly down on his hand to help stop the flow of blood.

'I'm not angry with him. More like the other way around. He hates me.'

'He doesn't hate you. He loves you.'

'Then he would be the only one.'

A smile lit up her expression. 'Oh, Jace. Don't be silly. I love you. More than anyone else in the whole world. You must know that, don't you?'

It felt as though someone had punched a hole in his chest and taken hold of his heart to squeeze it tightly. He cleared his throat and looked down at his hand. 'Of course. And I love you too.'

The words felt thick on his tongue. Lies always slid smooth as silk for him, but the truth was never quite so easy.

How he felt for Clary was only the love of a brother for his sister.

That lie did feel smooth. Even when he told it to himself.

'There,' she said, patting the bandage she'd wrapped around his hand.' All better.' She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his cheek. His breath ceased completely for a moment. 'I must return to the banquet. After all, it is supposed to be in my honour.'

He nodded and touched his bandage. 'Thank you for saving my life.'

'Hardly. But try to keep your temper while around breakable things.'

'I'll keep that in mind.'

She gave him a last grin and hurried back into the other room.

Jace remained where he was for several more minutes, listening to the buzz of conversation from the crowd at the banquet. He couldn't seem to summon the energy or the interest to go back in there. If anyone asked him tomorrow, he'd simply say the loss of blood had made him ill.

He did feel ill. The way he felt about Clary was wrong. Unnatural. And it was growing by the day even though he fought to ignore it. For a whole year he'd barely been able to look at any other girl – now at a time when his father was pressing him to choose a wife.

Soon his father would think that his son's romantic taste was not for girls at all. Quite frankly, Jace didn't care what he might think. Even if he did prefer boys, his father would still force him to marry someone of _his_ choosing when his patience wore out.

It would not be Clary, not even in Jace's wildest fantasy. And if Clary ever learned of the depth of his feelings for her, she'd be disgusted. He didn't want the light in her eyes when she looked at him to be diminished in any way. That light was the only thing that gave him any joy at all.

Everything else about this made him utterly miserable.

A pretty young maid passed him in the cool, shadowy hall and glanced at him, pausing. 'Sir, is there anything I can do for you tonight?'

While his sister's very presence tortured him, he did allow himself a few meaningless distractions. The maid was extremely useful, in countless ways.

'Not tonight, my sweet.'

She moved closer. 'Your father left the banquet and is meeting with his advisor right now on the balcony, talking in hushed voices. Interesting, yes?'

'Perhaps.'

She had proved a useful tool over the past few months to learn tidbits of information. She was Jace's very willing eyes and ears here in the manor, and she had no qualms about eavesdropping for Jace whenever the opportunity called for it.

The occasional kind word or the edge of a smile was enough to keep her loyal and eager to please. She believed he would keep her indefinitely as his lover. In that she was destined to be disappointed. Unless the girl stood directly in front of him as she did now, he tended to forget she existed.

Jace patted her on the waist, dismissing her, and silently moved toward the stone balcony that overlooked the fine gardens below. It was his father's favourite spot for reflection, despite the cutting winter chill on nights like this.

xxx

Clary excused herself from the banquet under the false pretence that something she had eaten had not agreed with her.

She pulled the drapes all the way around her bed, shutting everything out. She lay down to go to sleep. But she couldn't rest.

She couldn't stop thinking about _him_. Who was he? Where had he come from? As she tried to fall asleep, she remembered his intense gaze, his smile, the shadows under his eyes…she remembered the gentle touch of his hand as it brushed her face and the coolness of his breath on her skin. However much she tried to drive him from her thoughts, she seemed to hear his voice in her head, laughing. _We'll meet again…again…again…_

She opened her eyes and threw the smothering blankets aside. She crept to window seat and looked out at the grounds below patterned with moonlight and sharp black shadows. And the lake beyond, pale and silver in the moonlight. It looked so cool and pure and inviting.

She couldn't resist. Clary had to feel the air on skin; she had to get outside; she had to be by the lake. She wouldn't swim there, but if she could only look at it and feel the cool night breeze across the water…

Did she know, or guess, what would happen if she went out that night? And if Clary had known, would she have gone? She persuaded herself that what she was doing was perfectly rational as she crept out of her room.

The moon was huge and low in the winter sky. She took a few gulps or air and grinned. An owl hooted. _Go back, go back_…it seemed to screech. Clary ignored its warnings and made her way to the lake.

She stooped over the water, feeling wildly happy. Her hair fell over her shoulders as she trailed her hands in the shallows. She closed her eyes in ecstasy.

Then she heard a footstep and knew someone was behind her, watching her, waiting for her. She forgot to breathe, and cursed herself for being so stupid. _What dangers might be waiting?_

Clary opened her eyes and saw her wavering reflection in the water, and behind it a familiar figure in a long black coat.

'I told you we would meet again.'

**xxx**

**I hope your liking it so far :) Next chapter you'll learn all about Valentine and what nastiness he is up to!**


	3. Chapter 3

**My apologies for being pathetically lax with updating this story but I moved town and started a new job so I havn't had that much time to write lately. I wanted to make this chapter longer but I just didn't have the time but at least it's something, right? I'm also not really sold on the title of this story and I wanna change it so if you've got any suggestions as to what I should call it let me know because right now I've got nothing. **

**Tess! **

**xxx**

Clary whipped around. He was standing there in the moonlight, the boy with the haunting eyes.

'You scared me!'

'And you enchanted me,' he smiled teasingly. You looked like a water nymph saying her prayers. What were you dreaming about?'

Clary blushed scarlet and tried to summon a brusque tone.

'It's none of your business.'

'I want to make it my business. I want to know everything about you.'

'What makes you think I want anything to do with you?' Clary snapped. She had secretly hoped she would see him again, but now she wanted to get away and hide, as though he already knew too much about her. 'I have to go, and so should you. You'll be in terrible trouble of my father catches you here.' Clary began to walk away.

'Don't go yet,' he said. His voice was soft and pleading and Clary hesitated. 'I'm not used to asking for things. But I'm asking now. Please stay. I just want to talk to you.' He came up behind Clary and wrapped his thick coat around her shoulders. The warmth of his body still clung to the heavy fabric. The strangest feeling that she had known before swept over her. For one crazy moment Clary wanted to sink into his arms and totally lose herself in him. But she pulled away and turned around to face him, trying to ignore his strange, compelling beauty.

'Who are you? Why are you here?'

'To see you,' he replied. 'I behaved like an arrogant idiot when we first met. I wanted to apologise.' He began to cough, a hoarse sound that seemed to rack his whole body.

'Are you ill?' Clary asked, stepping closer to him.

'No…no…I'm getting better.' The coughing fit subsided. 'I'm not ill. I'm just tired. I'm tired of being alone, Clary.'

'So am I,' she said blankly. The silence hung between them, and their eyes met. Clary felt as though he could see right into her. She dropped her gaze and moved away.

'How do you know my name?'

'It's easy. I've been watching you ever since we met, trying to find out all about you.' He suddenly caught hold of her hands and drew her to him. A thousand pinpricks swept up Clary's spine as he begged, 'Let me get to know. I'm sorry I frightened you. I never meant to. Please promise you'll see me again.'

A voice in Clary's head, a million miles away, was saying_, Don't be silly, Clary; you don't know anything about him. He might be crazy. Be sensible…_

Clary looked up at him, trying to see into his mind.

'What's your name?'

He hesitated, as if searching for something from far away.

'My name is Sebastian.' He held her hand even tighter. 'Please say yes.'

'Yes,' she said simply. 'I promise.'

His pale face flooded with a smile as joyful as sunshine. Gently he turned her hand over and pressed his lips to Clary's skin.

'Tomorrow night, then.'

Clary didn't reply. His coat fell from her shoulders and she fled, not knowing how she got back into her bed, knowing that her heart sang with every step she took

**xxx **

'I think Father's up to something.'

Jace's voice cut through Clary's concentration, startling her. She quickly blew out the candle in front of her, tucked Sebastian's white handkerchief into her pocket, and turned to face him with what she knew was a guilty expression.

'Excuse me,' she asked as calmly a she could.

Her brother cast an amused glance across the shadows of her bedroom. 'Am I interrupting something?'

She placed her hand on her hip, 'No, of course not.'

He drew closer to her lounge next to the window, which looked over the expansive manor gardens. 'What are you doing?'

'Nothing of any importance.'

'Mmm.' He raised a brow and held his hand out to her patiently.

Sometimes Clary didn't like how well her older brother knew her.

She held her hand out to Jace as he inspected the now fading cut on her palm.

'How did this happen?'

'It was silly, really. I tripped in the garden and cut my hand on a rock. No drama.'

The thought of this made Jace absently touch the scar on his face – one that stretched from the top of his right ear to the corner of his mouth.

'After all this time, you still don't remember how you go that?' Clary had always been very curious about it. And she was keen to change the subject.

'Ten years is a long time. I was only a boy. Honestly, I don't remember anything. I only recall wandering off, then feeling the hot trickle of blood on my face and the sting of the wound. Perhaps I stumbled down a set of stairs or whacked myself on the edge of a sharp door. You know how clumsy I am.'

'Hardly.' Her brother moved with the grace of a panther – sleek, quiet. Many might think him deadly, given that he was the son of the iron-fisted Valentine. 'I'm the clumsy one in this family.'

'I beg to disagree with that.' His lips curved to the side. 'One of grace and beauty, my sister, with a multitude of suitors at her beck and call. Forced to be siblings with a scarred monster like me.'

'As if that scar makes you a monster.' The thought was laughable. 'You can't be blind to how girls look at you – I even see maids in this house wistfully watch as you pass, even if you never notice them. They think you're devastatingly handsome. And your scar only makes you more…' She took a moment to think of the right word. 'Intriguing.'

'You really think so?' His golden eyes glinted with amusement.

'I do.' Clary brushed his hair, long overdue for a trim, off his cheek to inspect the scar more closely. She slid her index finger over it. 'Besides, it's barely noticeable anymore. At least, I don't see it.'

'If you say so.' His voice sounded strangled now and his expression shifted to one of distress. He roughly pushed her hand away.

Clary frowned. 'Is something wrong?'

Jace stepped back a few feet from her. 'Nothing. I – I came up here to…' he ran a hand through his hair. 'Never mind.'

Clary watched with surprise as he swiftly left her room without another word.

Something was troubling her brother. She'd noticed it lately, each day worse than the last. He seemed distracted and deeply distressed by something and she wished she knew what it was. She hated to see him upset and not know how to help ease his pain.


End file.
